No One Asked
by Boast Malone
Summary: Rei was never one to play with fire. It just burned her. With time, she learns to finally put it out.


Perseverance was defined as the steadfastness in doing something despite difficult or delay in achieving success. Ironically derived from _persevant_—abiding by strictly.

No one ever asked, but Rei would say own life was a textbook example of both words. Through the tough, unfair eras of her being, she persevered, and was made to abide by her circumstances strictly. She complained few, and always bore her burdens with grace, even as a child.

She remembered when he first came into her life. Rei believed she was about sixteen, still worrying about essays, final grades and university acceptances, and eventually it was all thrown to the wayside for what was to be. It wasn't overnight. There was a man that'd visit her home more and more frequently, until she was seventeen and her parents were telling her she'd be helping that same man bare a powerful son.

No one asked, so Rei had to kick and scream to let her parents, her _betrayers_ know this was not what she wanted, not what she'd let happen, and then a motion towards the interior of their new home shut her up.

Everything was brand new. By then they'd no longer lived in a two bedroom apartment, but instead slept in a spacious penthouse in the heart of Tokyo. Their furniture was modern and luxurious, complete with a theatre room, and ate at the prestigious restaurants they'd only began to afford a year ago. _Her parents_ did, because none of this truly belonged to her. Sat at the couch in the main room all alone, her fear pressed a firm hold on her chest, and that wae when Rei understood.

She'd been sold.

Moving in was physically easy. She'd come to learn Enji was a pro hero, and could afford people to transport her belongings into his large traditional styled home. Remaining there was harder. Freedom teased her from the windows, but she was already been made known to the fact that if she were to leave, she'd simply be brought back. It'd already happened by the time Rei became a Todoroki on paper. She'd already been physically made an example of in private, where no one could hear her. Not that they ever did regardless.

She felt alone. She didn't have friends, and she sure as hell didn't have her family. There was no one she could've turned to. Enji's busy schedule was her only refuge.

When he was there though, sometimes he stared. Most of the time he ignored her. She preferred it that way, but when the former came about more and more often, she knew exactly why—more importantly what he wanted from her. It made her uncomfortable in the house they shared, and she couldn't stand the weight of her own anxiety that'd build up when she had to share a bed with him for a minimum of six hours and trust him not to do anything to her. It was why she didn't sleep very well.

One year later however, she had her firstborns. A beautiful son, with vermillion hair a different shade compared to his father's blood red locks. He let her name him Touya. Two years later she had a daughter just as beautiful, with snow-white locks mirroring her own besides the tinges of red that looked a crimson violet in certain lights. She named her Fuyumi.

Touya was always an introverted, sweet little boy, but playful once in his comfortable element. She loved him so much. Rei didn't have many regrets, because the tragedies in her life weren't made by her own choice, but raising her children from the beginning, and reading them their favorite stories before they slept made the unfairness of it all wash away from the forefront of her mind. If it was all so she could have her babies, she'd do it all over again.

Fuyumi was the more chaotic one of the little duo she raised, usually the one to rope her older brother into her elaborate schemes, but always clammed up around her father despite seeking him out. Because even though they living in the same house, Enji only lurked in her children's lives, as though lying in wait. Rei felt they were better off for his absense but knew they'd never understand. It did however, take a while for her to realize and accept that they'd need him just as much as they needed her.

And like always, Enji decided to prove her wrong in the worst way possible.

Touya was only eight when he began his training. He was only eight when she'd seen him run to her with such fear in his eyes, with _burn_ marks all over him.

Rei rarely used her quirk, because she feared the repercussions it'd bring due to its power. Enji took full advantage of it when she'd try to run away. She wasn't sure when the last time she'd used it was, but it didn't matter then because there was a small glacier separating her, Touya, and his father.

He burned through it, and didn't even let the shards of ice remain solid long enough to nick her or her son.

Rei hugged him closer, "What are you _doing_?!"

"He's learning to control his quirk," He explained, stone-faced despite the confrontation. He at the least respected the distance for once, not that it mattered much, "For now, his own flames burn him. We're working to change that,"

Rei felt sick. She felt Touya's tears fall on her shoulder, "You—" She stopped, because she couldn't believe what she was hearing, "If his quirk brings him harm he can't use it!"

"I won't accept another faliure!"

And like that, Rei was reminded that he'd already casted away his other two children without tossing them out their home for not inheriting his flames. She was reminded that he was building a successor. It was why he bought her.

"I don't _fucking_ care!"

And neither did he, deciding the distance not worth respecting anymore. He forced Touya away from her hold, and slapped her away for daring to grab after him.

A month later, she didn't have a son to hold anymore.

**...**

It was wrong, but she couldn't raise her son anymore. She damn near couldn't stand the sight of his left side and its resemblance to the _bastard_ that'd taken everything from her. Every time she looked at it, she was reminded of all she'd lost.

Part of her thought it'd get better, and she cursed her naive, younger self in her mind for daring to delude her into remaining in place. Remaining in _his_ place, letting him bring harm to _her_ children.

She hated him. Her heart was racing, the walls were growing a thin layer of frost and he could see her breath and _she hated him_. Enji. Endeavor. The surname he forced her to take on.

Her mother understood. She regained contact despite motherhood teaching her how much more treacherous her own mother's deeds were because she needed someone. Her children weren't enough anymore. It haunted her. It haunted her that he'd managed to take that away from her as well.

"Mom...I know it's not right, but I can't do it anymore," The hand Rei held the phone with was trembling. Everything was trembling, everything felt like it was reaching its boiling point, "The children, they're...like him more and more every day. And Shouto...his left side. Sometimes I look at him and _hate_ what I see. I...can't raise him anymore. I shouldn't raise him..."

Her tears spilled over of their own accord during her confession, and she hated herself for it. She mused that it was unclear whether Enji would have her brought back to him should she flee since he had what he always wanted, and felt like a stranger because here she was, considering abandoning her son.

"Mommy?"

She turned her had fast, too fast to not startle his boy. Or maybe it was the look on her face. She must've looked as horrid as she felt, but it was the patch of blood red hair and sharp turquoise blue eyes that caught her attention the most. He was coming closer, _oh god he was coming closer._

Rei watched him stop right before her, and change his gaze to an observant_judgemental_ one. Or maybe he was concerned, "Shouto..."

He spoke, but she didn't hear him. It all came out in a muffled mess that wasn't strong enough to break through the visage of Enji that she saw in him. She felt the air get even colder, and knew the floor she kneeled on was likely frozen over.

She just wanted this to be over, she wanted peace, and when she thought of it Enji's blocked and ruined it. It told her she wouldn't achieve it so long as he was in the picture. And as her thoughts ignored her expression and dimmed darker, she garnered an awful idea. One she didn't want to acknowledging and give life to.

Perhaps in another life she'd take it further, but in this, she let it go with the wind.

Even a month later, Rei felt on edge. Even more than she had been, because she wasn't sure what could've happened with her at any moment, or what she could've done. She'd never felt such uncertainty like this, where every scenario was fair game, no matter how genuinely insane on paper.

She never outright said it, but as the thoughts continued to rage with no sign of calming—thoughts of her, raising her children as they were meant to be raised, all in peace because Enji was gone—she started...not working to realizing it, but not avoiding it either.

It was so bad she no longer used knives in her kitchen, not after she felt the distinct temptation to use it in a manner that didn't involve cutting vegetables. Instead, she used her quirk. With time, Rei was able to wield a finely sharpened scalpel made of ice from her finger.

One day, she watched her son, Shouto, enter his room with a lug in his step. The left side of hair didn't seem to carry the underlying image of Enji that it usually did. Maybe that's why her heart broke, because he looked even more like her child. But it still beat with added pressure at the rise of a certain opportunity.

Shouto's training for the day was over. That meant Enji was home.

Rei didn't have to look far. He was in the room with swords lined up as well old costumes that made her dub it his "war room".

Once she knew Enji was asleep, Rei stood up in his bed, letting the comforter discard her naked chest and felt an odd absence of self. She was well aware of everything around her, but it wouldn't have been a stretch to say she was only watching what she did. Like a dream and her hands belonged to someone else. Her eyes were half lidded, there were still circles that hadn't quite went away.

In the darkness, save for a panel of pale blue moonlight from the window, she looked over at her sleeping husband. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Before she knew it, she could see him breathe small clouds of precipitation, her too.

Part of her knew what she was doing, part of her didn't, all of her didn't care regardless.

She thought to her adolescence, and rejected the idea that she was born to be the plaything of others, the one no one asked about, but asked anything of. Her life was essentially a series of being moved by the will of others. She went on, but her perseverance gradually wore away over the years. She felt it.

There came a thin layer of frost lining the headboard to his bed, likely covering the wall behind it as well. Still, he slept. Still, he breathed.

She wondered how her children were sleeping. There was something memorable about knowing while they slept tonight, their lives would change come the morning. She wondered if any of them would discover the truth. Touya probably would've right away, she thought.

There was a panel of ice layering the walls that shot up for just a moment with a piercing crack. Enji stirred, he was shivering by then, but he still slept.

Would they forgive her? She doubted it. Maybe Fuyumi would, but she'd have every reason not to. She'd started developing a shell of her own, and slowly shed her previous extroverted demeanor. Maybe it'd take a longer time.

Natsuo wouldn't. He was generally more lax, content to read his favorite books even if it interrupted his studies, but she couldn't imagine a world where he knew about this and looked at her the same. The same could be said for all of her children. It was a shame.

"Rei?"

She looked over at his awakening form. Her eyes didn't betray her racing heart, nor the contempt of Enji referring to her with such formality. Instead she smiled, and let her hand ghost the side of his face and rest at the base of his jaw.

"Go back to sleep. You had a rough day," Rei didn't really know if he did, she didn't care either.

It worked though. He nodded once, twice, and closed his eyes, allowing his breathing to resume its slow pace.

One deep breath, and then another. Rei's arm made a steady ascendence over his head, and felt the pinpricks of her quirk taking hold, of the ice thickly encasing her forearm and ending in a sharp edge past her fingers.

She let her gaze linger for a second, and forced her vindication's descent.

**...**

The world mourned, her kids mourned, Rei didn't. She didn't do anything, really. She didn't feel anything either. Not sad, sorry, or even horror at what she'd done.

She still comforted her children the best she could, and lied to them saying she wasn't sure how it happened. It should've ate at her soul to do such a thing. It didn't. Her fear should've lit up her guilty conscious when she fed the authorities the same lie, but it didn't.

It was ironic how Rei still played with fire, days after putting one out.

The news made her feel fortunate Enji's home address wasn't public information, since she knew the press would've lined up outside what was now her backyard if it had been.

There were rumors, she'd been asked to confirm or deny some of them. She declined every time, and changed her phone number every so often.

It didn't hit her until weeks later, when she was sat on her couch in the main room with her son cuddled up to her, and she'd already inherited everything with Enji's name on it.

She was...free.

No one ever asked, no one would ask, but she lacked the weight that held her down for the last twenty years of her life. She was closer to peace then, stroking Shouto's hair as he fell asleep, than she had been in such a long time. Everything felt just alright. Just like her and her children would be for the rest of their lives.

Her youngest still wanted to be a hero...but Rei had hope he'd be better than who came before him. Without Enji as a present force in her life or his, she was able to open herself up to the positive possibilities.

She wasn't sure if he missed him. It would be okay if he didn't. She wondered if he'd remember much of his father when he became a young man, since when he died Shouto was was merely five years.

Rei smiled at the notion that he wouldn't.


End file.
